


From Russia, With Love

by ThaliaFromGrace



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Consensual Underage Sex, DJ Otabek Altin, De-Aged Yuri Plisetsky, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Jealous Otabek Altin, Jealous Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patronus, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Otabek Altin, Pre-Slash, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Russian Mafia, Spoiled Yuri Plisetsky, Tags Are Hard, Tigers, True Mates, Truth or Dare, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, Viktor Nikiforov is a Malfoy, Yuri Is Viktor’s Younger Brother, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, exotic animals as pets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThaliaFromGrace/pseuds/ThaliaFromGrace
Summary: Series of one-shots of our favorite brats.Lots of A/U, I am open to requests, and ideas.Sometimes fluffy, sometimes silly, sometimes dark, sometimes sad.Additional tags to be added.Mostly centered around Viktor/Yuuri and Otabek/Yuri.





	1. The Bodyguard

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I've fallen into the madness that's known as Yuri on Ice, yes I'm trash.  
> This is going to be a series of one shots of all sorts of alternate universes.  
> Main relationships will of course be Viktor/Yuuri, and Otabek/Yuri.  
> As always, constructive criticism is welcome and comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> None of the characters belong to me.

“I’d like to request this evening off.” Otabek’s voice was low and respectful, even though he knew it was his free day, he still made a point of asking Viktor if he was to be away from the manor for long periods of time. 

Viktor looked up from the paperwork on his desk, his ice blue eyes searching the man in front of him. “Of course, you don’t need to ask Otabek.”  
Otabek nods, already beginning to stand up from the chair. 

"Thank you." 

Otabek doesn’t even look surprised when he sees Yuri waiting for him outside of his older brother’s study, he merely raises an eyebrow at his choice of seat. The boy shrugs carelessly, already knowing what Bek is thinking, but slowly slides off the cover of the grand piano and follows Bek anyway. 

Despite today being Otabek's official day off, the man still stayed on the premises for the majority of the morning, spending his free day indulging Yuri's various whims as was usual of him. When the sun begins to set, they retire to one of the smaller sun rooms, where they like to go and read or watch a film. 

Otabek excuses himself, muttering something about a shower, and Yuri takes the chance to find something to eat for the both of them. He finds Yuuri in the kitchen with the maids, already preparing dinner, and as he passes by him to get to the fridge, the older man ruffles his hair affectionally. Yuri rolls his eyes as he steals a large slice of cake, if Otabek wants some, he’ll just have to eat off his plate, there’s no way he’s carrying two plates up three flights of stairs. 

He gets there just before Bek does and places the cake to the side on the mahogany table. 

"You're going out then.” 

It’s not a question, but Yuri still tries to not look too interested in the answer, as he splays elegantly on the luxurious couch, uncaring of the fact that his designer sneakers were streaking dirt on the leather surface. The older boy settles on the plush, fur carpet, his back to the couch as he opens his book. 

"It's not polite to eavesdrop жолбарыс." 

The boy blushed prettily at the nickname, one he really should be used to by now, pushing his long golden hair out of his face, he turned on his stomach to eye his friend below him. 

"'s not my fault you didn't close the door." Otabek hummed noncommittally, dark eyes never straying from his novel. 

"Will you be playing tonight?" He turns the page and nods, not even sparing the boy a glance, at which Yuri huffs and shifts again. 

 

"Can I come?" He questioned innocently, turning his face up toward the older boy. Otabek didn’t even look away from his book.

"No." 

 

"But why not?" Yuri tried to keep the whine from his voice, but after seeing the clothes that Otabek was wearing, he couldn't help but be annoyed at the thought of all the masses pawing lustily at his friend. 

 

Otabek was his. 

 

Viktor had told him so countless times, and he was payed a hefty sum to ensure that he understood that his only thoughts and his dedication were to be for Yuri and Yuri only. He knew the types of establishments Otabek played at, and he didn't like them one bit. 

It was a common argument between the four of them, Yuri demanding to go to the parties and clubs with Otabek, while Viktor seethed and raged at him about the dangers of leaving the manor unprotected. Yuuri calmly stating that Yuri was much too young to even be allowed inside said establishments, while Otabek quietly muttering that Yuri would be allowed. The unspoken “or else” was left unsaid. Viktor never paid attention either way, yelling at Yuri about how foolish it was to leave the walls of their home without guards, without guns to protect themselves from their countless enemies. As if Yuri needed to be reminded about that, of course you didn’t get to be the most powerful mafia family without gaining a few along the way. It wasn’t that Otabek was considered an unfit protector for Yuri. 

Viktor had personally handpicked him for what was probably the most dangerous and important job after all, to guard the other person he held closest to his heart, but he didn’t like the thought of them going out alone without proper weapons or manpower. A fact that he repeated quite relentlessly whenever one of these arguments arose between them. 

“You know why.” 

And that was that. Yuri tried not to pout, but then a wonderful idea formed inside of his mind. He excused himself from the room not long after, making a show of stomping off in a huff, and even if Otabek looked a little hurt at his lack of a proper goodbye, he didn’t stand up to follow him.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"You can come out now жолбарыс." 

Yuri sighed, he knew he'd be caught eventually, he just didn’t expect it to be quite so soon. He slowly untangled his limbs from where he sat, crouched down inside of Bek’s car, sliding into the passenger seat angrily.

"Are you going to take me back home?" 

The boy flinched involuntarily, already imagining the lecture Viktor would have prepared for him, what was worse though was if Yuuri got involved. His disappointed gaze always made Yuri feel about two inches tall, and even though never yelled or threatened like Viktor did, he always voiced his displeasure in a way that left Yuri near tears at having hurt the older man. 

“No. Not unless you want to?” 

The sports car had been shut off and Bek patiently turns to him, waiting for his answer. 

“No. I want to be with you.” 

Yuri flushes as soon as the words leave his mouth, but Otabek has a pleased gleam in his eye, his lips quirking upwards as he turns back to the road. The drive to the club is a silent one, the outskirts of the manor streaking past in hues of green and gold as they travel into the city. Yuri’s already regretting having worn a thin tank top and leather pants, he wishes he’d brought along his favorite jacket. As soon as they pull into the parking lot, Yuri can see that there’s going to be a lot of people. The whole place is absolutely packed. Rows upon rows of gleaming sports cars are lined in the parking spaces, and scantily clad bodies dripping with gaudy jewelry loiter around the club’s entrance. Bek parks his black Bugatti in the very back, far away from the crowd that’s gathered in the front. 

Yuri steps out and walks towards him, and he gasps lightly when Bek pulls him into his arms. His cheeks burn as the blush trails across his face when he feels Bek tuck a gun into the waistband of his leather pants, pulling his shirt down to cover it. “Be careful with that.” Is all he says, and Yuri nods, shifting and making sure that the gun is as unnoticeable as it can possibly be. Bek must be packing too, he never goes anywhere without his own gun, and despite knowing that they’ll be in a packed club all night, where the most dangerous thing they’ll probably encounter is one of Bek’s rabid groupies, he feels safer knowing they’re both armed and ready. 

 

"Put that on." Otabek demanded, as he shuffled out of his leather jacket and handed it over to him. Yuuri huffs angrily, pulling back from the older boy’s embrace. 

"No." 

 

"You're not going in there dressed like that, now put it on." His tone leaves no room for argument and Yuri angrily shoves his arms through the sleeves, noticing hopelessly just how big Otabek really is compared to him. The Russian boy sneaks in a quick rush of the other’s cologne and he bites his lip hard at the whimper that threatens to escape his lips. Bek is already walking ahead, his golden chain glinting around his neck. 

“Stay close Yuri. I don’t want Viktor to have my head if something happens to you tonight.” Despite the teasing tone with which it was delivered, Yuri nodded dutifully, knowing full well that Viktor would most certainly murder Otabek if he came back with so much as a scratch. Viktor was very overprotective when it came to his younger brother. Many people could attest to that. 

Inside the club it’s madness, and Yuri instinctively moves closer to his protector, not wanting to get lost in the sea of bodies. Bek turns over and smirks at him, pulling him over to the DJ booth by the hand, and Yuri swears he can feel his heart catch in his throat. Stupid Otabek, making him feel these stupid feelings. Sometimes Yuri just wants to punch him in the face. He can never tell what Otabek is thinking, and tonight is no exception. He’d thought that maybe his outfit would garner some kind of response, maybe a twitch of the lips at least, but Bek didn’t even seem to appreciate the effort he’d put in to look good tonight. 

And he’d made him cover up with his stupidly large jacket.

Bek begins to play, and Yuri, for a lack of something better to do, decides to see if he can acquire a drink, it’s getting hot in the club, and Bek’s scent is starting to make his heart beat faster than it really should be. 

 

The bartender eyes him suspiciously, but after dealing with Viktor Nikiforov and his patented stares for years, Yuri manages to stare him down, and his drink is quickly handed over without further ado. 

Three sips into his drink and he realizes that something is very wrong. 

He’s been drunk before, he’s gotten so completely shit-faced that Bek had to hold his hair as he vomited the alcohol back up, muttering comforting words in his native tongue as he rubbed the younger boy’s back, and all of those other times, they don’t even begin to compare to the way he’s feeling right now. He stumbles backyards, his heartbeat racing erratically, the only thought inside his mind is to get back to Bek, he needs to find Otabek. 

His feet won’t listen to him, his designer sneakers seem to be stuck to the marble floor, and suddenly he feels his upper arm caught in a vice like grip. He turns his face up towards his captor, and his blood runs cold as he spots the familiar tattoo on the side of his neck. He tries to cry out, but his voice is gone, and suddenly everything is moving too slow. 

He feels himself being dragged off to the back, his kidnapper’s voice harsh and his breath sour in his ear, he tries to remember all the self defense classes, the ones that were ingrained in him from before he could even walk, but his mind is fuzzy and his limbs are so heavy. He can’t even muster the strength needed to push the sticky body off of his clammy one. He can’t even call out for Bek, and as the fear grips his heart he can feel his throat begin to choke, the tears already streaming down his cheeks in angry rivulets. 

He tries once again to pull back from the arm that’s holding him in a death grip, but all he does is stumble backwards a few steps, almost falling on the floor. The man sneers in disgust and pulls him back up by the hair. Yuri whimpers and squirms, “Otabek!” His voice is a hoarse whisper, and everything is too bright and hot and he knows he’s going to die tonight. 

Whatever shit goes down will end up in his death, anything else, hurting him and then dumping him by the side of the road to leave a message, will result in a war for everyone. They won’t let him live long enough to talk, they all know who he is, and just how important he is to Viktor and Yuuri. 

The thought of his older brothers gives him enough strength to push the body off and pull the gun from the waistband of his pants. He fires off a shot, hoping like hell that he hit somewhere important, and he runs off the side, his body swaying uncontrollably. The lights inside the club don’t make things easier on him, everything is a swirling mess of color and sound. He curses the fact that the gun had a silencer, as it ensures that nothing is heard inside the thumping of the club. 

He hears a muffled howl and curse behind him, when suddenly two pairs of hands are dragging him back towards the exit. The boy bites the hand that’s been placed over his lips, and one of the men smacks him hard on the cheek as he curses in pain. Yuri’s beginning to black out, but he knows that if they get him outside, his chances of survival are gone. 

He has to escape and get to Bek. The cold air hits him in a rush, and he feels himself begin to fall. Black spots are dancing at the edge of his vision, and he sees a large black SUV begin to pull up in front of them. He closes his eyes as a wave of nausea passes over him, willing himself not to cry in front of his captors. 

There's a loud sound behind him, and Yuri is pulled off the side, his wrist slamming harshly into the concrete walls. The sound of gunfire is unmistakable, and Yuri cries out in relief. He knows it’s Bek. Bek is here, he found him, he's safe now. 

He closes his eyes and falls into the darkness. 

When he comes to, Yuuri's face is looming over him, his eyes are worried as he strokes his long hair away from his face. "Bek?" He slurs softly, and finally realizes he's in one of their SUVs, lying across Yuuri's lap, his feet are splayed out on Otabek's legs, and Viktor is in the front, driving as he mutters angrily into his phone in quick Russian. Yuri sees Chris in the passenger side, taking a drag of the cigarette in his lips as he catches Yuri's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Yuri, I'm so sorry." Otabek won’t meet his eyes, and Yuri launches himself into the other boy's lap, his arms going around his neck. 

He can feel Otabek return the embrace, and Yuri finally lets out a sob, uncaring of the fact that he's surrounded by company. 

Otabek continues to murmur apologies into his neck the rest of the ride home, and Yuri eventually manages to fall into a light slumber, finally safe in the arms of his protector.


	2. Born To Make History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri decides he doesn’t want to make friends.

Yuri was used to being stared at. 

It had become less of an issue since they’d relocated to Hasetsu, but it still happened with annoying frequency. 

It mostly occurred when he was in the company of Yuuri and Viktor, but that was to be expected, they were both the biggest ice skating superstars of recent years, and despite their young age, they were taking the world by storm. 

At least there were less paparazzi here, Yuri hated them. He hated the way they talked to Viktor and Yuuri, but mostly he hated the questions they asked him, shoving cameras and microphones into his face, endless, incessant questions, “How are you faring after your Grandfather’s death?” 

“How does it feel to be officially adopted by Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki?” 

“Will you be taking after them in the future?” 

“Following in their footsteps?” 

The eight year old would just blink emptily at the camera, wondering why the hell they were so interested in questions that even he didn’t have the answers to. 

Yakov had put his foot down after one of the more rabid journalists had managed to corner Yuri in the hotel lobby, uncaring of the fact that the small eight year old was clearly afraid and had no interest in talking to him. 

 

A night of arguing had followed that particularly scary event, and Yuri had cried himself to sleep, listening to the rough whispers of the three people he had left in the world, discussing what was to be done in regards to his future. 

 

He dreamt of his Grandfather that night. The dream started out like all the others usually did, his Grandfather, old and grey, walking him to the rink in St. Petersburg. 

For as long as Yuri could remember, it was just the two of them. His Mother had died when he was very young, and even though Yuri couldn’t remember her, his Grandfather always reminded him of how much he took after her, in both looks and spirit. The dream shifts and he’s inside the rink with Viktor and Yuuri, the two of them are holding his hands as they spin around the rink in endless circles. 

The ice is cold and unforgiving, but their laughter and smiles make him warm and happy, and even when he falls, he never cries out. He sees Yakov to the side, talking in low murmurs with his Grandfather, and though the man looks troubled, he still waves when Yuri skates by, this time, without the help of either of his rink mates. 

And then the dream shifts again.

This time, he’s skating on the ice, he’s alone, and the lights are dimmed. He calls out for Viktor, for Yuuri, for Yakov or his Grandfather, but there’s no answer. 

He continues to skate around in loops, and when he falls on his hands he sees them all trapped underneath the ice. Their eyes empty and dead. He pounds at the ground with tiny fists, sobbing from the pain and the fear, his hands becoming bloodier and bloodier, dripping to the ice in endless rivulets. 

And then he wakes up.  
________________________________________ 

The boy is getting to be quite annoying. 

He hasn’t stopped staring since Yuri took his seat in the classroom this morning, and the Russian has half a mind to call Viktor on his iPhone and demand he be taken home at once. 

But then he remembers that their vacation time is over too, while he’s been forced to come to school, Yuuri and Viktor are training at the local ice rink for the skating season that’s fast approaching. 

He settles for giving the boy a scowl instead, hoping that he isn’t going to come up and beg for Yuri to give him a signed picture of Yuuri or Viktor. 

All through class, and in the hallways, he can hear the whispers about him, and he grits his teeth angrily, staring firmly at the chalkboard in front of him. 

“Is that really-”

“Yes! I heard he’s living with the Katsukis now!”

“He’s been adopted by them! Well by Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov!”

Of course. 

He hadn’t even been given one day of peace before it started up again.

Yuri sighed and wondered if he could convince his obaasan to let him stay home and help around the onsen instead of coming to school. 

She was good at making sure Yuuri and Viktor did as she asked, and she did seem to have a horribly soft spot for her new grandson. Yuri grinned at the thought, already beginning to plan out how his speech would go.

It’s during lunch, as he’s texting Viktor about how annoying and stupid his new classmates are, that the boy approaches. His ridiculously striped hair is pushed off to the side and he’s grinning brightly at Yuri. 

He’s beginning to open his mouth, no doubt to introduce himself, but Yuri doesn’t even acknowledge him, instead, he gets up from his seat and purposely pushes him to the side as he walks to his next class of the day. 

“Finally! You two idiots took forever!” He can hear the shocked gasps from both his classmates and instructor at the way he addresses his guardians, and he grins evilly. 

Despite the insult, Yuuri and Viktor look unfazed, they’re both smiling sunnily at him, and when they approach him, Viktor takes him into his arms and spins him around. “Hello Yuri, how was your first day of school?” 

Before he can even get a chance to respond about how horrible it all was, he hears a loud yell from behind him, and from his perch in Viktor’s arms, he turns to stare at the annoying boy who’d been staring at him all day. 

The same one who had tried to speak to him during lunch time. The same one who currently had his limbs tangled around Yuuri’s legs, conversing with the older man in rapid Japanese. 

Yuri growled as he squirmed down from Viktor’s grip, glaring in disgust at the audacity of the boy. How dare he! Yuuri must sense the storm that’s brewing inside of him, because he quickly begins to explain, “Yuri! This is Kenjirou Minami! He’s one of Yuuko’s and Minako’s students.” 

The explanation doesn’t appease the Russian boy fully, but at least the boy, Minami is not some crazy fan, but someone Yuuri actually knows. Though by the star struck looks he’s shooting both of his guardians, he’s clearly a big fan of them too. 

Yuri rolls his eyes, tugging on Viktor’s coat, clearly done with the conversation. Yuuri pats Minami’s head indulgently as he says his goodbyes, and then he takes Yuri’s backpack from him as they begin the trek home. 

“It seems like you made a new friend Yuri?” <

“He doesn’t want to be my friend, he just wanted to get closer to you two.” 

Viktor’s brow furrows at the boy’s comment. But it’s Yuuri who speaks, kneeling in front of the Russian.

“That’s not true Yuri, Minami told me that you’re very smart and answered all of the questions your teacher asked you. He asked if you’re going to be skating at the rink too, because he wants to skate with you.” 

Yuri rolls his eyes, but smiles slightly anyway at the thought. 

“Whatever, we’ll see if he’s any good.” 

“Yuri, be kind, not everyone can have two figure skating legends teaching them everything they know!” Viktor grins proudly at him, and Yuri just snorts and pushes Viktor to the side. 

That night, as he’s being tucked into bed, after he’s said goodnight to his obasaan and ojiisan and Mari, Yuuri asks him to be nicer to Minami at school. 

Yuri stares at the man, the one who took him in and decided to become his guardian, the one who was willing to put his training on hold to get him settled. 

The one who’d brought him home and introduced him to his family without fear of their reactions, the one who had given him another chance at having a little bit of happiness again, the one who put up with not only Viktor’s ridiculousness but also with Yuri’s horrible attitudes and moods, and Yuri vows to try to be nicer to the other boy.

“I’ll try, but I already know he’s going to suck at skating, he won’t ever be as good as me.” 

Yuuri laughs lightly, and fixes the covers around him and Makkachin, the dog curled up and asleep around Yuri’s feet. 

He leans over and strokes his forehead fondly, “Nobody will ever be as good as you, you were born to make history Yuri Plisetsky, never forget that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obasaan - Grandmother  
> Ojiisan - Grandfather

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are open, if you'd like me to write about something I'd be happy to do it. If you have any ideas you want to share, I'm open to everything.


End file.
